


Amends

by Shadowed_Oracle



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff in the Dark Castle (Once Upon a Time), Fluffapalooza, Fluffapalooza 2021, Rumple is in full Dork One mode, the Dark Castle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:07:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29412390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowed_Oracle/pseuds/Shadowed_Oracle
Summary: Rumple has noticed something up with Belle's behaviour over the past few days, and is concerned one morning when he smells blood on her. Belle is upset by his nosiness and he has to work out how to make things right with her.
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Comments: 12
Kudos: 42





	Amends

**Author's Note:**

> Happy (Belated) Skin Deep Day/ Rumbelle Anniversary/ Fluffapalooza!
> 
> This was supposed to be posted on the 12th but I've been very busy IRL. In addition I've been having what we think is some kind of migraine that gives me vertigo so it's hard to even sit up which makes typing more difficult. Which can make reading/ writing text on screens kind of iffy. Anyways, enough about me. Please enjoy this Dark Castle Fluff.

Something was wrong with Belle. She hadn’t been her usual cheery self the past few days, and now she was an hour late with his morning tea.

Rumplestiltskin tapped his fingers against the wood of the long table in his Great Hall. Belle had never been late before but he supposed it should not surprise him his maid was late. After all she was a noblewoman he’d trapped in a humiliating bargain, poor service was indeed one of the downsides of picking her -- she’d made some truly dreadfully inedible meals the first week she was here. He was the Dark One hence immortal, so he knew she couldn’t poison him but he’d spent those first several days considering whether one could in theory die from foul tasting food. Eventually he’d given in (for his taste buds’ sake) and told her how to tell the castle to make the meals.

He hadn’t gotten around to telling her that the castle was capable of performing _all_ her other duties itself. It would hardly do for his maid to simply sit around all day and read (well, more than she already did). After all, that would deprive him of the stunning sight of her standing on ladders and showing off her legs while she cleaned up high or the breathtaking view of her bending over while working on lower surfaces. It was definitely his own desires (admittedly long dormant), his... his depravity that stopped him from freeing Belle from her cleaning duties, he assured himself. It wasn’t due to any other emotions on his part.

So he continued to make her clean the castle and to serve his meals. Despite her poor culinary skills, it turned out that she made lovely cup of tea. Soon breakfast and afternoon tea had had become his favourite times of day. A few hours where they both sat around making idle chitchat about anything or sometimes just eating in silence. This had been quite unexpected and he refused to examine _why_ he liked it so much.

But, predictably enough, it was over now.

Things had been going so well after they’d returned from chasing that thief and he’d shown her North Tower library (that he’d definitely not magicked into existence that very day). But now, for no reason he could see, they’d gone back to those first uncomfortable days of her time in the Dark Castle.

Perhaps she was trying to test him. But why he didn’t know. He hadn’t said or done anything abnormal in the last few days. They’d had no visitors to the castle, it had just been the two of them.

It would be easier if, as he’d intended, he didn’t care about her at all. Instead he actually quite liked his little maid. Although, of course, he would never actually _tell_ her that. For her part, she no longer seemed scared of him. She’d even hugged him in the forest that one time. But he was still the monster who’d taken away any chance of the life she’d been planning to lead.

The whispering voice of his conscience -- that sounded like a certain fourteen year old teenage boy he had not seen for over two centuries -- told him he should let her go back to her family. But he ignored it. He wasn’t a good man. In fact, he hadn’t been a man for a long time now. No. He was a monster and monsters could do things like bargain for pretty maidens to come and live -- forever -- in their castles.

Rumplestiltskin sat mulling the situation a little longer. He’d just resolved to go and find where his erstwhile maid had gotten to when he heard the tap of her heeled shoes outside the double doors behind him.

He sat back in his chair as nonchalantly as he could, and set his face into the terrifying grin that had made grown men piss themselves.

She opened one of the doors and he listened to her muffled footsteps draw nearer and nearer to him. When he thought she was just a few feet away, he trilled, “You’re late.”

She paused briefly then continued her progress towards him and placed the tray in front of him.

She held her head high and said mildly, “Yes, I know. I’m sorry, Rumplestiltskin.”

Then she began pouring the tea in her usual way. She showed no sign of fright at his grin. The tea tray was clean and dry -- even his attempt to startle her hadn’t worked. Rumplestiltskin felt quite deflated.

“Well,” he trilled, “don’t you have an explanation for yourself?”

She shook her head. “I just got distracted by something this morning…”

She placed his teacup in front of him and her scent, of books and roses hit him. But something else was there too… Rumple sniffed the air and stiffened and turned to thoroughly look over his maid.

She frowned at him as she reached to place a plate of breakfast pastries in front of him. “What?”

He grabbed her wrist to stop her pouring her tea and she glared at him as she tried to free her wrist. He just ignored her and sniffed the air very deliberately and scanned over her.

She squirmed and growled at him, “What do you think you’re doing. Unhand me at once!”

“You’re bleeding. Someone’s hurt you,” he growled. “Did you help another thief out and he took a slice at you? Or did you cut yourself attempting some task in that kitchen that I’ve told you you should leave to the castle?”

Belle’s face shuttered but a faint blush appeared on her cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“There’s no use hiding it from me.” He said wagging his finger in her face, “The Dark One has his ways of finding these things out.

"There's nothing to tell." 

He sighed, "Belle, I can heal you if you tell me where you’re injured. So why don’t you just show me where you’re bleeding and make this simpler for the both of us.”

He watched Belle carefully. He saw anger and embarrassment flit across her face, as well as a hint of… was that amusement? She bit her lip and seemed to be wrestling with herself before coming to some conclusion. She lifted her chin and gave him a haughty glare down her nose and he felt a surge of affection at her attitude and complete lack of fear.

“Well are you going to tell me what I want to know?” He asked impatiently as she still didn’t say anything.

“I’m not injured.” She said at last.

“But you’re bleeding...” He was going to say more but she cut him off.

“I’m not injured.” She repeated.

“If you’re not injured why are you bleeding? You’re being secretive and hiding things from me and I want to know why.”

She glared at him, “You really want to know?”

He rolled his eyes, “That has been the point of the last minute or so of conversation, yes.”

Still staring daggers at him she sighed and said, “I’m bleeding there.” As she pointed straight the centre of her pelvis.

“How the …?” Came out of his mouth before his brain caught up and clamped his mouth shut. But he couldn't quite tear his eyes away for another few moments, until he suddenly remembered how it would look to Belle that he was staring at her _there_ and he focused himself to meet her gaze.

“Oh.”

“'Oh'? 'Oh'? All you have to say is ‘oh’? You all but force me to tell you and all you can say is ‘oh’? Not ‘sorry’? I mean I know you won't willingly admit to being wrong but you could at least apologize for being an ass.”

He rolled his eyes, “I’m sorry my concern for you has upset you. Next time I smell you bleeding, I’ll ignore it and just hope you will deign to tell me about an injury before you bleed out. Is that what you want to hear?”

She glared and him and her hand twitched. For a moment he thought his lovely kind maid was about to slap him but she just shook her head and stomped out of the Great Hall.

Rumplestiltskin slumped back in his chair and muttered to himself, “well that could have gone better.”

* * *

Rumplestiltskin was disappointed, but not entirely surprised when Belle didn’t appear at lunchtime. But when she didn’t appear for their afternoon tea, he knew she was still quite upset. When she didn’t appear for dinner he knew she was truly mad. She might be late once, might miss one mealtime sitting around reading. But she wouldn’t miss three like this.

Clearly he’d upset her even more than he’d realized this morning. He just didn’t know what to do to fix it. He didn’t have a lot of experience with women and their… moods.

Milah had become even more bad tempered before and during her bleeding. Eventually he’d learned to just stay out of her way as much as he could. His attempts to keep Bae protected from the worst of her rage and keep him from asking too many questions, meant he had often invented little father son activities (some of his favourite memories of Bae’s early years) to stay out of her way during those days. But that didn’t help his current situation at all. He couldn’t just avoid Belle until her bleeding passed -- he sensed that would make this much worse. With Cora he’d just helped her use her anger and pain at her body and turn that into more magic. Which didn’t help him with Belle at all either.

He frowned. Neither Milah or Cora had been particularly good tempered women to begin with. So perhaps he needed a different tack with Belle. Which just left him even more stumped.

He paced around the Great Hall trying to think. What could he do to get his maid to speak to him again? He knew many spells but he didn’t think she’d be happy if he used on on her. He supposed he could appear wherever she was hiding and frighten her back to work but then they’d lose that nice companionable relationship they’d developed of late.

So he had to find a way to make amends to her. But how?

He paced around the table and caught sight of the tea cup Belle had chipped on her first day here -- which was now the only teacup he ever used. He started to turn away from from the table when an idea occurred to him. He stared over at the cup and smiled to himself as the idea began to unfold in his mind.

 _Yes that could work._ He thought as he magicked himself up to his tower to begin his work.

* * *

It was late when he finished, but still a few hours off midnight. He hoped this would work. Now he was done arranging it his little tray of offerings, it didn’t seem quite so clever or enticing. But he had no other ideas for how to appease Belle so he supposed he was stuck with it.

It took a matter of moments to work out that she was still hiding up in the North Tower Library. Without giving himself any more time to overthink this he magicked himself halfway up the staircase, where he could hear and see her before she could see him.

Belle was curled up on her little sofa and while she didn’t look her usual happy self -- she didn’t look as furious as she had this morning. He hoped that meant she had calmed down.

He climbed the stairs with quiet and deliberate steps and was almost to the top when she noticed his presence. Her countenance changed to an angry scowl. And he paused one foot hanging above the next tread, wondering if he should just magic the tray to her side and disappear until she was calmer again.

Before he was able to make that decision she spoke, glaring at him. “Are you here to apologize?”

He took the final steps up to the library proper and stood there, glaring down at her. He spoke with as much dignity as he could muster, “The Dark One never apologizes.”

“Then you should leave.”

She crossed her arms and looked away and he cursed to himself. This wasn’t going how he’d imagined at all.

He shifted from foot to foot and glanced around the room as he wondered again whether he should just leave the tray and go away. He took a step towards her side table when she turned to look back at him and he froze in place, his left foot hanging in midair.

She spoke in almost a whisper, “And what about Rumplestiltskin? Does he apologize?”

He stumbled. Getting his feet underneath himself again he glanced warily into her piercing blue gaze that seemed to be trying to read his very soul. He could only meet her stare briefly before he had to look away again. He should leave. He was on dangerous territory here and he didn’t know how to handle it.

He focused on his fingers twitching on the tray he was holding. The green-gold skin of the Dark One and the black nails -- so inhuman and nothing like his human hands had been. No the Dark One didn’t apologize but then again Dark One wouldn’t have brought that tray up here and expected nothing in return.

He didn’t know what it was about Belle. Why this young noblewoman affected him so. How she could look at him as if she could see his soul, as if she understood him. How could she even think that the Dark One and Rumplestiltskin were not entirely one and the same?The only other one who’d thought that was long gone from these lands. Would Belle become as disillusioned with him one day as his Bae had?

He risked another glance at Belle and she was still watching him calmly. He met her eyes for a second and she quirked her eyebrow as if to say 'well?'.

He looked away again, focusing on the rows of bookcases behind her, and muttered quietly, “Rumplestiltskin sometimes apologizes.”

He moved towards her and placed the tray on the side table next to her.

Then he took a step back and stood in front of her swaying from side to side uncertainly. Belle didn’t say anything just watched him with those wide blue eyes of hers and he wavered between wanting to run away back to his tower room and stay here forever with her.

His gaze flitted over the room, to anything but her. He couldn’t think what to do or say, and Belle didn’t offer any assistance.

The silence wore on and on, until eventually Belle sighed. “Well, if you’re not going to say anything, perhaps you ought to go.”

The startled him and he looked up, to see yet more hurt that he had caused on her face. Now that would not do at all. What was it she had said was her motto? 'Do the brave thing and bravery will follow?' It seemed like arrant nonsense to him but then he was a lifelong coward. But perhaps he needed to try something new -- for her.

He took a deep breath and then said quickly, “I didn’t mean to upset you this morning.” When she didn’t respond he continued, “I smelled blood and thought you were hurt… It was an accident. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you or… or anything else. I swear.”

She chewed on her lip for a few minutes seeming to ponder his reply carefully. “I suppose I can understand how that happened.”

She paused and he wondered if she had done until she continued in a quiet voice. “It’s just… It felt like you were yet another man mocking and discomforting me just for being a woman.” She crossed her arms across her chest looking awkward and uncertain.

His fingers curled into fists as he felt a flash of anger at the men who had done that to her; he had a sudden urge to hunt them all down one by one. But his anger towards those anonymous men was soon overridden by a deeper an anger and shame. _He’d_ made her feel like that. Bad enough any man had upset her so, but so much worse _he_ had. His fingernails bit painfully into his palms as if as his hands wanted to punish him. He’d come up here to make amends but his appeasement offers now looked so pathetic and small compared with the hurt in her voice.

He didn’t know what to do now. He wanted to retreat and rethink his approach but he sensed that would make things worse. He just wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say or do now.

“Do you want to go?” He blurted out. 

She looked puzzled, “Go? Go where?”

“Anywhere. Leave the Dark Castle. Travel the world as you’ve always dreamed... And get yourself far away from me.”

“I can’t. That would break our deal.”

“I could release you from it if you are no longer comfortable here.”

She blinked at him and frowned. “You spent the first few weeks I was here deliberately making me uncomfortable. What’s changed now?”

Rumplestiltskin shifted his weight and tried to think of a way he could get out of this conversation with his dignity in tact.

“Perhaps I’ve decided I don’t mind having you around.”

Her mouth quirked into a half-smile, “How does that lead to you wanting to let me go?”

“Because...” He shifted nervously, the urge to lie almost overwhelming. Taking a breath he said quickly, “Maybe I prefer you being happy here... Maybe I like some of your changes to the castle and our conversations about books… But those wouldn’t be the same if you truly hated and feared me the way you did when you first arrived.”

She shook her head and smiled slightly. “I didn’t like you at first, I’ll admit that. But I never really hated you and I wasn’t all that afraid of you.”

He smiled, “You are such a pretty, brave little thing aren’t you.”

She blushed and glanced away, and he cursed inwardly as he realized what he’d just revealed to her. He was digging himself into an even deeper hole with every moment he spent here talking to his maid.

Belle met his eyes again and he was once more held in thrall by her piercing gaze. “Do you want me to go Rumplestiltskin?”

He shook his head violently, “Gods no!”

“Then I will stay. On one condition.”

He stilled, “And what is that?”

“You tell me you’re sorry.”

He resisted the urge to hiss and automatically deny her request. He could feel the Dark One roiling inside him and yelling at him that only weaklings and cowards had to apologize. But he was beginning to think this apology might take more courage than almost anything else he’d done in his life.

He was dimly aware of the silence dragging on as the minutes passed and Belle watched him with her arms crossed protectively across her chest.

He took a deep breath looked down at his feet briefly and then raised his eyes to hers for a moment before flitting away to a point past her shoulder and mumbled in a low tone, “I’m sorry I upset you.”

Belle’s smile was brilliant. She stepped forward and squeezed his hands with hers. Then gave him a swift hug -- so like that one in the forest -- before standing back looking at him with that broad smile still on her face. “Thank you. I know that was hard for you, so thank you.”

He nodded not trusting himself to speak at that moment.

She looked to the tray he’d placed on the side table when he’d come in. “What is all this?”

“Oh, I knew you were upset so I brought you some things to make it up to you.”

She looked amused. "The Dark One doesn't do apologies but does do apology gift?" she said. “What are they for? I see herbs, some cloth and an envelope.”

“Ah well... the herbs are different teas you can make to ease your, um, symptoms.” He said, waving a hand vaguely towards her middle.

“And the cloth?”

“The printed cloth is a herb bag you can heat by the fire to ease any, um, pains you have. The, er, rest of the cloth is some soft cotton rags that are extra absorbent for the, um --” he was the Dark One damn it he wasn’t going to blush --”bleeding.” He could feel his cheeks heating and he hastened on with his explanation, “the pile will magically replenish itself when you get near the end it so you’ll never run out of the rags.”

Belle’s cheeks looked a little pink too, but mostly she looked like she was trying not to laugh. He hoped that was a good sign. “That’s very thoughtful of you. And the envelope?”

“Ah, well.” He magicked it over into her hands, “perhaps you should open it to see for yourself.”

She opened the envelope and pulled out the little slips of parchment and began reading through them. Then looked up at him with bright eyes.

“Are these real? There’s no secret deal or trick to them?”

He shook his head, “You have my word. They are exactly what they appear to be.”

She smiled that brilliant smile of hers and held out one of the slips to him. “In that case I want to make use of this one right away.”

He glanced down at the words written in his own hand, ‘Rumplestiltskin will read to you.’

She grinned up at him. “I trust it won’t be a problem for you to read to me right now?”

He shook his head and bowed to her, “No, I am at your service lady.” He straightened up. “Now what is it you wish to read?”

She smiled at him, “Why don’t you pick out something you like -- for us both to enjoy.”

He stared at her as he tried to think of anything suitable he could read to her. Distant memories of sitting on a little bed, reading to a sick boy appeared and he wandered to the section where he’d placed all oldest books upon creating the Library. He pulled out a dusty and well-worn book of children’s tales.

Soon he was seated in the armchair across from Belle, while she was curled up on her couch under a blanket with the warm bag of herbs on her lap and sipping a cup of the herbal tea he’d made.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

She nodded, “Yes, Rumple.”

‘Rumple’, he thought could get used to hearing her sweet voice saying that nickname… forever. But now was not the time for thoughts, or hopes, like that. Now was the time to focus on Belle, the here and now and this story.

He smiled and began, “Once upon a time...”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Whenever you find this fic and read it, feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think.
> 
> Please feel free to let me know if you notice any typos. I've copy read this but not as many times as I sometimes do due to my vertigo issues.


End file.
